The Faithless - Martina Cole [43]
Chapter Thirty-Four
‘No one has seen him, Jonny, it’s like he dropped off the face of the earth.’
‘What about his wife and kids?’
‘House is empty, hardly even any clothes packed. I’ve got people keeping an eye out in Spain and Portugal but, in reality, he could be fucking anywhere.’
Detective Inspector Jones was as bent as a nine-bob note, and he knew that he was expected to give his main benefactor Jonny Parker something substantial for the money he was paid on a weekly basis, but there was nothing. It was the gospel truth – he had not been able to locate the man, or his family.
‘Bertie would have a fallback plan, he probably had passports, et cetera waiting for just such an eventuality. All we can do is wait and see if anyone recognises him, or he commits a crime somewhere and we get wind of it. As I say, Jonny, he could be anywhere. South America, maybe? They would welcome the cunt with open arms – look at Biggsy.’
Jonny Parker knew the truth of this, but it wasn’t enough for him. He wanted Bertie Warner’s balls for this outrage and he wanted them now. If there was one thing he knew, it was not good practice to let Bertie have a swerve on this. It would make Jonny look weak and it also meant that someone was out there and they would have him and his family in their sights. It made him uneasy, even though he knew they were well protected. He had made the mistake of assuming his family was out of bounds, and he would never make that mistake again. Celeste was in bits, and why wouldn’t she be? After what she had seen, he was surprised she wasn’t in a nut-house.
But it was Cynthia who had amazed him the most. She had taken out Kevin Bryant and, from what he could gather, she had knelt down and finished the job. Either way, she had fucking scared Warner off – he must have thought they were waiting down there for him and wasn’t prepared to take the chance of a bullet in his own bonce. None of it seemed to have affected Cynthia that much, she seemed a bit unnerved but that was about it. As he had looked at her comforting his wife, it had crossed his mind that she would have been a worthy mate for him, and he had hated himself for that thought even as he had acknowledged the truth of it. She was like a modern-day Boudicca, all hair and fiery sexuality. He was ashamed at how she had affected him, because he knew she was a two-faced, conniving whore, but somehow that just made her seem more intriguing.
Celeste was like a ghost of her former self; he had taken her to a doctor in Harley Street who was known to keep a closed shop, but all he had said was that she was suffering from shock. Well, Jonny could have fucking told the doctor that much, and he wouldn’t have charged five grand. But the doctor had given her some happy pills and some sleeping tablets – both of which Jonny could have purchased in any pub in London for a millionth of the price – and sent them on their way. Still, Jonny felt better for having done something for her.
It was Cynthia who was on his mind, though – and the fact that she had taken Bryant out in such an audacious way. She had shown her mettle and, even though she had been an outcast over her last carry-on, she was now number one in everyone’s books. She had more than redeemed herself; she had killed someone, and not just anyone either – she had killed the man who had been going after his wife, after Jonny P’s wife, and that counted for a lot in their world. She had been a ruthless and efficient killing machine and for some strange reason that turned him right on. He liked a bit of fire in a woman, and she had it in abundance. Cynthia was a stroppy mare, she was arrogant, and she was dangerous. All